The Journey Continues
by WhoKnowsWhy
Summary: Ch. 1 Now that they've been rescued will Sayid have to make a difficult choice? Don't let all the chapters scare you away, most are pretty short.
1. Chapter 1

_If you haven't read The Journey Begins, you may want to read that first. The events in this story follow._

_The people who've helped me know who they are and they have my thanks. __I do not own Lost or any of these characters. If I did, I would live in a much nicer neighborhood, somewhere in Hawaii._

He lay awake, restless. Careful not to disturb the woman sleeping beside him, he slipped out of bed and walked to the window. The lights of Los Angeles flickered below. This was where he had wanted to be a year ago. This was where they told him he would find Nadia. He reached into the pocket of the worn backpack hanging on the arm of the chair. The pictures were gone, but the card he held in his hand might bring him the answers he needed.

He glanced at the bedside clock. Noting the time, he did the math in his head as he walked into the living room of the suite, closing the door softly behind him. It was 5:30 a.m. here, four hours difference meant that it was 9:30 in Washington, D.C. Surely Agent Cole, or someone who knew how to contact her, would be in at this hour.

He picked up the phone, then put it down. He sat heavily on the couch, leaning his head back against the wall. What he was about to do would hurt the woman in the next room. No matter how he explained it, no matter what the result, it would still hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted. And yet, if he didn't do this, if he didn't make this last effort, he wasn't sure he could ever be happy, or feel like his life was under his control. He needed to do this. All of his searching had to come to an end, somehow. He realized that it could mean making a choice. Ironically, if he was lucky, it might mean making the most difficult choice of his life.

He had argued that the room was too big, and too expensive for the two of them, but now he was glad for the privacy it provided. He picked up the phone again and dialed the number. Voice mail. Push this button or that button. Confused as to what to do, he hung up. Reading the card again, he saw the second number. A cell phone. She answered on the first ring.

"This is Melissa Cole."

He hesitated. "Yes, I...I am not sure you would remember me, My name is Sayid Jarrah. It was in Sydney..."

"A year ago. Of course. I read about the plane crash, you and the others, saw the news. What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could help me. I am trying to find...Nadia, Noor Abed-Jazeem, do you...do you still know how to get in touch with her?"

"You are a determined man, aren't you Mr. Jarrah. I think I can get that information for you but I'm out of the office right now. Is there a number where I could reach you later?"

"Yes. I am at the ..." He read from the notepad on the desk "Los Angeles Crowne Plaza Hotel, room...just a moment." He opened the door and stepped into the hall to check. "Room 1118."

"I'll get back with you later today."

He hung up the phone and sat back down on the couch. Suddenly he was exhausted. The past two weeks since they had been rescued were a blur of hospitals, press conferences, lawyers and travel. There wasn't any time to think. He needed to think.

He looked at the door to the bedroom. Perhaps it had been a mistake coming here with her. On the island he had thought his searching was in the past. He began to accept the idea that they weren't going to be rescued. He cared for her, loved her even, and their differences had not seemed insurmountable. Here in the real world he wondered if those differences would drive them apart, whether he found Nadia or not.

Shannon lay in bed staring at the door to the other room. He didn't realize how thin hotel room walls were, but she knew. She had listened through enough of them. She had expected this, if she let herself think about it. She knew that he would need to finish things before moving on. Of course, on the island, there had been no way to do anything about it. She had always sensed something that he held in reserve. Even as they grew closer, and she became more confident that this relationship was different, that he saw her for who she really was, there was a part of him she couldn't touch. It was a habit from way back not to ask questions she didn't really want answered.

It was a struggle to stay calm. A lot depended on her reaction to this. She knew how she would have reacted, not so long ago. The old Shannon would have been throwing things and telling him that if he wanted his old girlfriend it was fine with her but he wasn't going to do it on her dime. Actually, though, this suite wasn't on her dime. The airline was paying for everything until they all got "settled" again. So there was time. She took a deep breath and decided the best course of action was none. He didn't know she had heard his phone call. She would wait, and deal with it if he mentioned it. She had things to do today anyway. Things that he couldn't help her with.

Sabrina. Shannon had worried and fretted about the meeting until he had thrown up his hands in disgust. All of the worry had been for nothing. When they had met briefly the night before, Sabrina had seemed diminished somehow. She wanted details about Boone's death, which had been hard. But then, surprisingly, she had apologized. She had even suggested that Shannon might want to ease into the company, and eventually, perhaps, take over Boone's position. More surprisingly, Shannon found herself considering it. Seeing Sabrina everyday would not have been on the top of her list even a week ago. But without Boone's attention to fight over, it was almost as if they had formed a bond. She was actually looking forward to lunch with her later today.

Nadia shaded her eyes to see the little girl on the bike ahead of her. "Yasmin! Don't go too far!" Was it her imagination, or had she just sped up a bit? Her mother had cursed her. Now _she_ had a daughter with a mind of her own. She broke into a jog and caught up with her.

"Hey, I thought this was our together time."

The little girl smiled and looked at her mother. "I like to go fast."

"I know. We'd better head home. Bath and a story, then bed. Someone has school tomorrow."

"I'll race you!" Yasmin grinned and took off, long braids flying out from under her bike helmet.

She watched her go. It was only a block from the bike path to the house she had rented. Living here made the commute to work longer, but she felt better about raising her daughter outside of the city. Ventura was primarily a vacation and beach town and the people were friendly and used to new faces. She already felt more at home here than she had in seven years in L.A. She felt safe from the past here, too.

She walked up to the porch where Yasmin was waiting for her. "You beat me again." She flopped down beside her.

"I always beat you, Mama." She said.

"Yes, you do." She hugged her close. "Bath, then I'll read to you, okay?"

"Okay." She hopped up, ran inside, and a few minutes later Nadia could hear the water running. No battle tonight. Good.

Nadia was sitting on the bed when Yasmin came out of the bathroom in her pajamas and climbed onto her lap. This was her favorite time of day with her daughter. She undid the braids in her damp hair and ran her fingers through to untangle it.

"What story do you want to read?"

"Tell me a story. Not from a book."

"What kind of story?"

Yasmin looked up at her. "Tell me a story about my daddy."

She took a deep breath. "Your daddy saved my life." She began the familiar story she had fashioned to appease her daughter's growing hunger for any information about her father. She left out details impossible for an eight-year-old to understand, but stuck as close to the truth as possible. When she finished, Yasmin looked at her and yawned.

"Where is he?" She asked.

"I don't know."

"How did he get lost?"

"Do you remember the time you wandered away from me at the mall?"

"I was scared."

"I know. But I found you because the mall isn't that big, even though it seemed big to you, and there were lots of people to help us. But the world is a very big place. When people get separated it's hard to find someone when you don't know where to look." Yasmin was sleepy, and seemed to accept the explanation.

Yasmins's request for that story saddened Nadia even now. Perhaps she had made a mistake, trying to raise the child on her own. Perhaps she had made the wrong choice by coming here. But after she closed the door to her only other choice, her options seemed to close with it. When she changed her mind about signing the adoption papers, the disappointed and angry couple in London had contacted the British Immigration Department, who had sent an agent to the hospital. With her daughter in her arms, the agent's promise of freedom and a safe life in America did what torture could not: Nadia had told the British authorities everything she knew about covert activities in Britain, and in Iraq.

Three days later she had a new passport, a somewhat new identity, and a job waiting for her in L.A. She wasn't proud of what she had done, and for that reason, despite still loving him, she wasn't anxious for Sayid to find her. Not at first. Now, after so long a time, she told herself that surely he was either dead, or had gone on with his life.

She had a good life. She liked her job, she had good friends, and she dated, but not often. It was hard with a child. You sized everybody up not just for yourself, but for his potential as a parent. Yasmin was her first priority and she was careful not to do anything to upset the rhythm of their life together. If that meant she was alone, it seemed a small price to pay.


	2. Chapter 2

He stared at what was left of dinner on his plate. Coming to the hotel restaurant was not his idea. He would have been happy to stay in the room and order room service. But Shannon had gone shopping and wanted to wear her new clothes and "be waited on, like a real person." So, wanting to make her happy, he agreed. They gave you way too much food though, and after the limited diet on the island, everything upset his stomach. Or maybe it was the piece of paper in his pocket with an address and phone number on it that was making him feel ill. Should he tell her?

"What's wrong?" She asked, looking at his plate. " I ate more than you. That's never happened before."

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just not hungry." He hated lying, but if he was going to tell her, he certainly wasn't going to do it here. Although, telling her in a public place might spare him a bad reaction.

She took a drink of wine. "Something's bothering you." He shook his head, but she knew he was thinking about the phone call, and she wondered if he had gotten the information he wanted. But she couldn't press it any further without cluing him in that she had eavesdropped, not on purpose, but still. So she decided to change the subject.

"Sabrina wants to have a memorial service for Boone. She wants me to help."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I probably should, but it seems like it all happened so long ago. Like it was another life. I'd rather forget about it."

"So what are you going to do?

"I don't know. Help her, I guess. She's being so nice, it's like she isn't even the same person."

"Neither are you."

"Thanks, I guess." She smiled.

He sat quietly for a moment, then he reached across the table and took her hand. Might as well get it over with. "I need to tell you something. Something I am going to do." It was important that she understood he wasn't asking permission.

She tried to keep her face neutral.

"I phoned Washington this morning. I have an address for her, for Nadia. I am going to go to see her." He stared at her, waiting for a reaction.

She pulled her hand away and finished her wine in one swallow. "What do you want me to say? Good luck?"

He could see that her defenses were back up. " I wanted you to know what I was doing. Isn't it better that I tell you?"

"I guess. Whatever." She picked her purse up off the floor and stood up. "I'm going back upstairs. All you have to do is sign. They'll charge everything to the room."

He watched her walk away. That had not gone well. But, what had he expected? What did he want? If he did, indeed, see Nadia tomorrow, what was the result he was looking for? An end to his searching and wondering? _Yes. _To find out if she still loved him? _Perhaps_. To find out if he still loved her? This gave him pause. _Shouldn't he know that? _Did he love Shannon? _This too, he should know. But he didn't. Not definitely. _Everything was out of focus. Right or wrong, he didn't know, wouldn't know until he finished what he had started eight years ago. Tomorrow.

The elevator doors closed. She pressed the button and leaned back against the wall. _Breathe_. _Stay mad_. She told herself. _Do not cry_. She took a deep breath. So he was finally going to see Nadia. Well, what was the worst thing that could happen? Another deep breath. He might decide to leave. Shannon thought she was prepared for that possibility.

On the island she was sure she loved him and he, her, but now? Things were different in the real world. They hadn't said the words since they were rescued. Was that weird? And Nadia? Shannon wouldn't even have known about her if Claire hadn't mentioned the pictures she'd found and given back to him. She had broken her "don't ask, don't tell rule" but all he would say was that her name was Nadia and she was an old friend he was looking for. _Old friend, my ass. _

_Breathe._ Damn, this elevator was slow! She fumbled in her purse for the inhaler. _That's better_. She needed to be rational. What if she could see Boone one more time? If she could talk to him, apologize, tell him how much she really loved him and appreciated all he did for her. Would she want to? _Duh!_ Of course, even just to say goodbye. She couldn't deny Sayid the same thing she wanted for herself. She just wished she was sure that his visit was about saying goodbye to an old friend.

Sayid was not anxious to go back to the room. He thought it would be better to give Shannon some time to herself. Wandering around downtown Los Angeles was not appealing either. So he sat in the hotel bar, drinking coffee and pretending to be interested in the baseball game that was on TV. After awhile though, he decided this avoidance was cowardly, and made his way back upstairs.

The living room was empty and the door to the bedroom was shut. He didn't know if she wanted to see him, let alone sleep in the same bed, but he opened the door anyway. She was already asleep, or pretending to be. He sat down on the side of the bed, and smoothed back her hair. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Are you still angry?" He asked

"Who said I was angry?"

"If you are not angry, why did you leave the restaurant?"

"I didn't have anything more to say."

"Do you have something to say now?"

"No. There's nothing to talk about. I'd like to go back to sleep." She turned away from him and buried her face in the pillow.

He couldn't sleep next to her after that exchange, so he took a pillow, and the blanket from the closet and settled himself on the floor in the living room.

The next morning she was still sleeping while he got ready to leave. The concierge had told him he would need to take the metro and then a train to get to Ventura. "About an hour, give or take." He'd said.

Sayid knew that Nadia worked somewhere in Los Angeles. She probably wouldn't be home until later in the day. He wanted to get there early though. Early enough to find the address, so that he didn't have to worry that it was the wrong house. Early enough to spend some time there in the neighborhood to see if the place where she lived might tell him something about the person she had become.

He didn't want to leave without saying something to Shannon. He walked into the bedroom. She was awake, leaning back against the pillow thumbing through a magazine.

So, you're going now?" She asked without looking up.

"In a bit." He sighed. "What are you doing today?"

"Well, I'm not sitting around here waiting for you, if that's what you're wondering." Again, she kept her eyes on the magazine.

"I wouldn't expect you to." Still, she wouldn't look at him. "Shannon. Please." He walked over and took the magazine out of her hands. Sitting down he took both her hands in his. "I am sorry this hurts you. But it is something that I must do. I need to know. I have to see her to try to understand. Until the crash, until the island and all that happened there, my life was about finding her._" _He stopped.

"So, what's your life about now?" She looked at him, finally.

"That's what I'm trying to find out."


	3. Chapter 3

The train ride was uneventful. He was used to the mode of travel from the time he spent in Europe and made both transfers with no difficulty. The metro station in Ventura was near the beach, so he bought a bottle of water from a vendor, and sat down to watch the waves and think. What was he going to say? Did he just walk up and knock on the door? Should he call first?

Sitting and thinking wasn't making him feel any better, so he began to walk, checking the street signs and consulting the map he had picked up. Several blocks in from the beach he found the street. It was long and narrow, and from the house numbers he knew she lived closer to the other end. He passed a school on the corner, and a park. Small, neat houses lined both sides of the street. It was not a wealthy neighborhood, but the houses and yards were well cared for. He glanced right and left, checking the numbers carefully as he got closer.

There. This was it. The house was blue, with white trim, and there were flowers in a pot on the porch. He was standing there, staring, when someone said "Can I help you? Are you looking for Nadia?"

He turned his head to see a tall woman with short, red hair in the yard next door. Before he could answer, she went on. "She won't be home until later. She picks the girls up at school on Wednesdays and takes them to dance."

"Girls?" The woman had spoken so rapidly he wasn't sure he had heard right.

"Yeah, her daughter and mine. They have dance on Wednesdays." The woman looked at him curiously. "Are you a friend of hers?"

"Yes. An old friend. I'll come back later then." He started to walk away.

"What's your name? I'll tell her you were here.?"

He paused. If he did not tell this woman his name, she would likely think he was up to no good. He would rather be the one to see Nadia's first reaction, but there didn't seem to be much of a choice.

"Sayid." He said. "I'll come back later."

Nadia helped the girls get their bags out of the car. She was glad for the flex time at work that allowed her to leave early on Wednesdays. She enjoyed sitting in the back of the studio with the other mothers watching all the little girls go through their plies and jetes. It was a beginner class and the instructor was patient and kind.

Yasmin and Grace stood next to each other at the barre, a study in contrasts. Yasmin, tiny and dark, Grace tall and freckled. They were the best of friends. Nadia was grateful that Grace and her mother were such good neighbors.

When class was over the girls piled into the back seat, giggling, for the ride home. Laurel, Grace's mom, was waiting on the porch when Nadia pulled in the drive.

"Can I play with Grace for a little while? Please?" Wheedled Yasmin.

Nadia looked at Laurel who smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay, but just for a few minutes." The two girls ran off .

"Oh hey," Laurel said. "I almost forgot. There was a guy here looking for you. He said he was a friend of yours. Sayid?" She wasn't sure she had the name right.

Nadia stared at her. "What did you say his name was?"

"Sayid?" She said questioningly. "Hey, are you all right? Who is he?"

Nadia walked to the porch and sat down on the step. She looked up at Laurel.

"You're shaking!" Laurel said. "Who the hell is this guy?" She put her hand on Nadia's shoulder.

Nadia almost whispered. "He's Yasmin's father."

Sayid's head was buzzing. Nadia had a daughter. So, she was married, or had been. There was another possibility. The child could be his. He sat on a bench in the park and watched two boys play frisbee with a dog that looked just like Vincent.

He might have a daughter. A daughter he had never seen, or even imagined. As logical as it seemed now, it had honestly never occurred to him that they might have conceived a child. She would be what...eight years old? What was he going to do? What would Nadia expect of him? What did _he_ want? Suddenly he thought of Shannon. How was he going to tell her? If this child were his, what would it mean to her? Would it change how she saw him? Would she assume he would want to be with Nadia? Would she leave? There seemed no end to the questions.

He supposed Nadia would be home by now, but he continued to sit on the bench. He had to have some idea of what he would do if the child turned out to be his. He couldn't go into this situation unprepared. Being a father was something with which he had no experience, but he thought of Claire and realized most people didn't know much about raising a child until they had to do it. Standing up, he decided the only way to find out was to go. Knowing would be better than sitting here wondering about it.


	4. Chapter 4

Nadia splashed water on her face and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She leaned on the sink and willed herself to stop shaking. Laurel had assumed she was frightened, but really, it was just shock. Nadia wasn't afraid of Sayid. But the thought that the life she had built with her daughter was about to change forever did give her pause.

She walked into the living room. She had asked Laurel if Yasmin could stay next door and have dinner with Grace. Laurel was happy to invite her, and Yasmin was thrilled. Nadia needed time to collectherself and she would rather Yasmin not be here when Sayid came back. She wanted tohandle this her wayShe was headed out to the kitchen for a glass of water when she heard the knock at the door. She knew she should answer it but she stood frozen in place until the knock came again, startling her. This time she managed to walk to the door and open it.

He was looking out toward the street, but turned when she said his name. They stared at each other for a long moment. He was struck by the sharp contrast between the two women who occupied all of his thoughts. Where Shannon was tall, all angles and sharp edges, looks were deceiving. Nadia was smaller, softer, and yet, he knew, stronger in many ways. Was she as strong as he remembered?.

She pushed the screen door open and stepped aside so he could come in. Everything seemed surreal. The sunlight coming in the door blinded her, and all she could hear was her own blood pounding in her ears. Nadia had imagined this moment a million times, but somehow it never happened in her living room. She watched his eyes wander, taking everything in. There were pictures of Yasmin on the bookshelf, and he walked over and picked one up.

"How old is she?" He asked.

"She's eight."

He looked again at the photograph and then his eyes met hers. "What is her name?"

Nadia sat on the arm of the chair. "Yasmin." She said.

Sayid repeated his daughter's name softly to himself.

Nadia fled to the kitchen. Sayid followed her. "I need a drink of water. Do you want anything? I could make some tea, or..." She stood at the sink with the water running. Why had she come out here?

He turned the water off and put his hand on her shoulder. "Nadia. Please. Sit down." He pulled out a chair and she sat at the table. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him, then away.

"What is she like?"

Good. This she could do. "Yasmin? She's smart and stubborn. She's shy. She loves to read and ride her bike, and sometimes she won't listen to a word I say. She smiled. "She's curious, always asking questions about everything." Nadia looked at him. "Especially about her father."

Sayid took a deep breath, trying to absorb it all. "What do you tell her?"

"The truth. What she can understand of it." She started to get up. She needed to move, to do something, or she was going to scream. "Are you sure you don't want something? Let me make you a cup of tea or something to eat."

Sayid grabbed her hand. "Don't. Just sit here. Look at me, Nadia. Talk to me."

"I can't!" She pulled her hand away and walked to the window, turning her back on him.

"I gave up." She said softly. "I stopped believing I would ever see you again. After I left London..."

"You were in London?"

"Yes, that's where Yasmin was born."

"But I looked for you there. I went to all the mosques, asked everyone." How could he not have found her?

She sat back down across from him. "Sayid, I was pregnant with no husband. I couldn't go to the mosques. I couldn't go to those people. They would have turned me away, or worse."

"So, Where did you go?"

"Where did I go! What options did I have, Sayid? No family. No friends who would help me. I didn't know anyone. I didn't even know you."

"What do you mean you didn't know me?" He stared at her.

She got up and paced the tiny kitchen, her bare feet slapping the floor. "Don't look at me that way! How long had we been together? How well did we know each other? I felt stupid and naive. I was angry at myself for letting this happen. I was in a strange country. There was a doctor. He put me in touch with some people who wanted a child. I was going to give the baby up for adoption."

A shadow crossed his face. "You would have done that? Given away our child?"

Her eyes flashed. "Are you forgetting I was alone? How did I know you were looking for me! For all I knew you were dead, or didn't want to find me! I didn't have many choices."

He hadn't thought of that. Hadn't thought at all about how difficult it must have been, or how scared she was, or that she might have doubted him. "What made you change your mind?"

She sat back down and closed her eyes. "When she was born, and I held her, I couldn't do it. She was all I had of you. I wouldn't sign the papers, wouldn't let them take her."

She told him the rest of what happened with the couple and how she'd told the British authorities everything. " I was ashamed for a long time. I betrayed people who trusted me. I don't even know what happened to them." She waited for his reaction.

He didn't say anything. He knew from the island, from Claire and Michael, and even Danielle, just how far a parent would go to protect their child.

"I've done things I am ashamed of, too." He said. And he told her about Essam, and what he had done in Sydney, because of the promise of finding her.

Sometime during their confessions she had taken his hands in hers. Now they sat, not speaking, or needing to. He knew he would tell her about the plane crash, and the island, and Shannon at some point, but for now this was enough.

Nadia looked at him. He looked tired and confused, vulnerable in a way she had never seen him before Did he still love her? She had buried her ownlove for him so deep, so long ago. How could she blame him if he was so uncertain of his feelings he couldn't tell her what he wanted? Was there any part of their feelings for each other that could be salvaged?

"Where is she?" Sayid asked finally, looking up.

"Yasmin? She's next door. Laurel, the woman you talked to earlier, she's watching her for now. I know you want to see her, and I won't keep her from you; but I need to talk to her first."

"All right. When?" He understood the need to make this easier on the child

"I have to know that you aren't going to be in and out of her life, Sayid. I won't let her be hurt if I can help it. Can you understand that?"

"Yes."

"Where are you staying?"

"In the city. I need to get back." He knew the trains didn't run all night and he would have to leave soon. At the same time, he had the irrational fear that if he left now all of this, the relief of finding her, the sudden closeness between them, even the daughter he had yet to see, would disappear, just as it had eight years ago. Nadia was standing at the window again, and he walked over to her. He put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry. Sorry you were alone." He said. "Please believe I wanted to find you. I was searching for you everywhere."

"I know." She looked up at him, her eyes holding shadows of all she had been through, and more, a question.

Without thinking of the consequences, he kissed her. He meant the kiss to be quick and gentle, but then his body remembered this woman, her taste, her smell, the weight of her in his arms, all of Nadia he had forced himself to forget and instead it became deeper and more passionate. She pulled him closer, every inch of her pressed against him. Nothing existed outside of this kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

When she realized it had been less than five minutes since she had checked the clock the last time, Shannon got up and turned it to the wall. Where the hell was he? Her whole body was crawling with anxiety. She couldn't relax, couldn't sit still. God, she needed a drink.

She hadn't been like this all day. Shopping had distracted her for most of the morning. But the lunch with a few friends she hadn't seen yet wasn't as entertaining as she'd hoped. Playing dodge ball with questions about the island was losing its appeal. Less than a month and being back from the dead was already getting old.

After lunch she met with Sabrina to discuss some details for Boone's memorial service. Sabrina brought a box of pictures and old photo albums and they picked out what they wanted to use. Shannon let Sabrina do most of the choosing, simply nodding when her step-mother showed her something. Agreement seemed to be all Sabrina wanted from her any how.

The anxiety surfaced when she returned to the hotel. There was nothing to do except think. She tried to read, did her nails, sat at the pool for awhile, but nothing took her mind off of what Sayid was doing right now.

She got up and paced the room. Yes, she knew he probably wasn't able to see Nadia until she got home from work, but it was almost 10:00. What was taking so frickin' long? What if he didn't come back tonight? Where was he?

The notepad on the desk caught her eye. Where was it she saw someone do this? Some "CSI" or "Law and Order" episode? You could rub over the blank sheet and read what someone had written on the sheet above it. She needed a pencil. Damn! Only pens in the desk, and in her purse. Lipstick wouldn't work either. She rummaged in the bag again. Eyebrow pencil? It was worth a try. The island had at least made her resourceful. Carefully she used the side of the pencil to shade the paper and bring out the imprint. Soon the phone number and address were clear.

_OK. I'm not some psycho_. She told herself. _I'll wait half an hour_. Ten minutes later she picked up the phone and dialed the number. She hung up before she heard it ring, but minutes later, she dialed again. This time someone picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?" A woman's voice, with a slight accent. Nadia?

Shannon said nothing.

"Hello? Who is this?" Annoyance or apprehension now, then a click.

Crap! She didn't know any more than she had before and now she felt like she was back in high school. Great. Just great.

She flopped on the couch, turned on the television and began flicking quickly through the channels, not seeing anything, just trying to keep her mind from racing. She wasn't sure how long it had been when she heard the key in the door. She made a sudden decision, pulled her legs up, lay her head on the arm of the couch, and pretended to be asleep.

His hand brushed her hair as he walked past. She could tell he was being careful not to wake her. The bedroom door clicked open and shut behind him. A few minutes later she heard the shower running.

Sayid turned the water on as hot as he could stand it and stepped into the spray. He was relieved that Shannon was asleep, or pretending to be. He wanted to delay this conversation as long as possible. All the way home on the train he agonized over how to tell her about Yasmin. It would change things. There wasn't any easy way around it

Before he left her, he told Nadia all of it, save for polar bears and monsters-in-the-jungle. The plane crash, the island, life there, and Shannon. Nadia had taken it all in, and although he could tell that hearing about Shannon wasn't pleasant, Nadia hadn't shown any anger or given him the idea that she expected him to drop everything for her.

He stepped out of the shower and dried off. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he considered going into the other room and waking Shannon up, getting it over with, but he was too tired. He lay down, but the whirlwind in his head wouldn't let him sleep. He never would have imagined himself in this position. So many "what ifs". If he had found Nadia in London, if the plane hadn't crashed, if Boone hadn't died. He did not believe in fate, but it seemed other forces were at work here. He would like to have a long conversation with whoever was pulling the strings.

Instead, sighing, he got up and walked into the other room. Sitting down beside her, he shook Shannon gently. She looked up at him.

"When did you get back?"

"Awhile ago. You were already asleep."

She looked away. "Not really."

"Shannon, I found out something today that you need to know." Sayid got up from the couch and walked around the room_. Just say it. _He thought. He took a deep breath.

"I have a daughter. She's eight years old. Her name is Yasmin."

He kept his eyes on Shannon's face. The news didn't seem to register at first, then her eyes narrowed.

"What?" She spat. "You have a daughter? With her, with Nadia?" She stood up, folding her arms across her chest.. "People don't have children with "old friends", Sayid. They have children with wives and lovers." She started toward him.. "Why did you lie to me?"

He was prepared for tears, but he hadn't expected this. Unconsciously, he backed away from her, but she kept coming. "Shannon, I stopped believing we would ever get off the island. I didn't think it mattered what the nature of my relationship with Nadia was. I thought it was in the past."

"You didn't think I could handle it." . She snapped, shoving him.

"No." He said honestly. " I didn't. He didn't like being pushed around , but he resisted the urge to grab her. Instead he snapped back. "Tell me, Shannon, were you honest with me about all of your relationships?" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Shannon stared at him for a moment. Then she walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. He heard drawers opening and shutting. He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands.

A few minutes later Shannon came out with a suitcase. "Sabrina offered me a place to stay. I'm taking her up on it."

"It's the middle of the night, Shannon." He said wearily.

"I don't care." She walked to the door. "This isn't all my stuff. I'll get the rest tomorrow."

"Don't go."

"Why?" She was crying now, but there was no sadness in her voice, only anger. "Why shouldn't I go? Are you going to tell me you love me? That we'll work this out? That you don't have any feelings for Nadia? No, Sayid, you can't tell me any of that, can you?"

He looked at the floor. "No, I can't." He went to her and tried to put his arms around her.

"No." She said, pushing him away again. "I can't compete with 'St. Nadia'. I'm not going to stick around to see who you choose. Take me out of the equation. I'm done." She left, and the door clicked shut behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

Nadia stroked her daughter's hair gently. Aftertheir talkNadia had broken her own rule and brought Yasmin to bed with her. The child was finally asleep, but Nadia knew she wouldn't be sleeping any time soon.

When she went next door to get Yasmin, Laurel apologized right away for the girls still being awake.

"They were excited about being together I guess."

Nadia didn't really mind. She was glad to have the chance to talk to Yasmin now, rather than later. She thanked Laurel and took Yasmin by the hand. Nadia could tell Laurel was curious, but she didn't want to have that conversation before talking to her daughter.

Once they were home she told Yasmin about Sayid's visit, "So, he wants to meet you. How do you feel about that?"

Yasmin shrugged her shoulders.

This wasn't in any of the "How-to-be-a-Parent" books Nadia had read. She wasn't sure what to do next. She helped Yasmin into her pajamas.

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

"O.K."

Once they were in bed, Nadia pulled her daughter close, "You can ask me anything, you know. If I don't know the answer, we'll figure it out together, all right?"

"Grace's daddy comes on Saturdays," Yasmin said.

"Yes, I know."

"Grace says her mommy and daddy don't like each other and that's why he doesn't live with them. Do you like my daddy?"

"I do. But it isn't as simple as that."

"Why?"

"That's one of those questions I can't answer."

Yasmin was quiet for so long, Nadia thought she had fallen asleep. Then she said, "When will I see him?"

"Well, I was thinking we might not do school tomorrow. It's pretty late, and you're tired. You need to sleep. We can talk more in the morning. If you decide you want to see him tomorrow, I'll call him. If not, we can wait. But not too long. He really wants to meet you."

"No school?" Yasmin said with a tired smile.

"No school. Go to sleep." Nadia kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you, too Mama."


	7. Chapter 7

Once she turned the corner into the elevator bay, Shannon dropped the suitcase and sank to the floor beside it. Angrily she wiped the tears away. She didn't know which was worse; that he had a daughter, for god's sake, or that he had lied to her about Nadia because he thought she couldn't handle it. Why did all the men in her life insist upon treating her like a child?

On the island, after a certain point, everyone stopped using the words "when we're rescued". It seemed like their lives would be lived out in that place. The relationship she built with Sayid was the healthiest she ever had. He was patient and taught her to trust her own instincts. Learning that he hadn't trusted her with the truth about Nadia felt like a betrayal. Of course, Sayid was right when he questioned her just now. She hadn't told him the complete truth about Boone, either. But that was different. Boone was dead. He wasn't going to come back and ruin everything And, Sayid had never asked directly. But she had asked him point blank about Nadia, and he had lied to her.

She stood up and pushed the elevator button. Time to get out of here. There was no one to call to rescue her this time. She would have to do that herself. The thought of that was scary, but no scarier than her life for the past year. She had survived the island and she would survive this, too.

Nadia sat down at the table. She had called both Yasmin and herself in sick earlier. It seemed strange to be sitting in her kitchen on a weekday morning drinking a second cup of coffee and reading the paper while her daughter slept upstairs. The news wasn't capturing her interest today, so she put the paper down. Picking up her cup she walked out and sat on the front step.

It was hard to absorb everything Sayid had told her. A plane crash, on a strange island...just when he was on his way to see her? It sounded like something out of a bad movie, or one of those awful romance novels the girls at work were always reading. Nadia had seen too much of real life to be captivated by simplistic love stories. Life was never that easy in her experience.

Sayid's kiss had unnerved her. She had struggled all night to sort out her feelings. Watching Yasmin sleep, she realized that the only love she was sure about was the love she had for her daughter. That was unconditional and absolute. But did she love Sayid and did he love her? Even if they did love each other could they really forge a relationship now? Or had the years apart led them both to idealize the other so that reality could only be a disappointment?

She didn't know if Sayid wanted a storybook family, the three of them all living together, or if she wanted that herself. Could she even picture it? The worst thing Nadia could think of would be to give Yasmin the hope of all that and then have it fall apart. But how could she ever be sure?

And then there was the girl he had told her about, Shannon. Sayid had seemed sad, resigned to something, when he talked about her. Nadia was not surprised that he had feelings for someone else, especially someone who was on the island. It would be hard to survive that situation without another person to share it with. What Shannon meant to him now though, wasn't clear in what he said. He probably didn't know himself. _Was he with her now? _Nadia pushed the thought away. She had no right to be jealous or possessive.

She wasn't used to being uncertain. She'd always had a mind of her own, always known what she wanted, from the time she was a child. Now when she wanted to be strong for her daughter, instead she felt fragile, as if the next unexpected thing would send her flying into a million pieces. She didn't like the feeling.

The coffee was cold. She got up and went inside to wake her daughter.


	8. Chapter 8

Sayid picked up his bags and walked around the hotel room one last time. He had pinned a note to one of Shannon's dresses in the closet with the phone number of the motel in Ventura he had booked. If he was going to get to know his daughter, he wasn't going to make a hour trip each way to and from the city. Especially with Shannon gone.

He hadn't slept after she left. He sat staring out the window and thought of what he could have said, wondering if there was any way to have made it less painful for her. There weren't any easy answers. He didn't blame her for walking out.

Maybe her leaving was inevitable. If they stayed together, he couldn't imagine Shannon dealing well with Nadia's child. It would be even harder for her to handle the ongoing relationship that fatherhood dictated he would have with Nadia. If things with Shannon were going to end eventually, better it end now, before Yasmin was involved.

But it was more than Shannon's reaction that made him doubt their relationship. It had been difficult enough to put his feelings for Nadia in the past when he had little hope of seeing her again. Now, he would see Nadia all the time, or at least any time he wanted to see his daughter. He had already kissed her. Would these feelings stay buried? Whether anything would come of them if they did surface, was another matter.

He shut the door behind him and walked down the hall to the elevators. Nadia had called about an hour ago to tell him she had talked with Yasmin and he could come any time. He wondered if his daughter was as nervous as he was. Nadia had said Yasmin was shy. What was he going to say to her? He didn't know anything about little girls. He recalled how angry and resentful Walt had been with Michael at first. Would his daughter be angry about the eight years he had missed?

Yasmin was whiney and clung to her mother most of the day. The third or fourth time she asked when Sayid was coming, Nadia sat her down on the couch. "Are you nervous?" she asked softly.

Yasmin looked down, then nodded.

"You know what," Nadia told her, "I bet your daddy is nervous too."

Yasmin looked up at her with big eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, so don't be too scared, okay? I'll be right here."

When Sayid's knock finally came, Nadia looked at Yasmin. The child nodded, so Nadia opened the door. Sayid stood on the porch, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking uncomfortable. Nadia smiled encouragingly and stepped aside so he could come in. She felt Yasmin's hand slide into hers and she gave it a squeeze. Then she knelt down beside her.

"Yasmin," she said, "this is your father." Nadia's heart beat double time during the first moments. She wondered if this was too soon, if they should have given Yasmin more time, if she needed more time herself.

"Your mother said you were smart, but she didn't tell me how pretty you were, " Sayid said.

Yasmin turned quickly and hid her face in her mother's shoulder.

"Hey," Sayid knelt down so they were all on the same level, "are you scared?"

Yasmin's eyes met his for the first time, then she looked away.

"Well, I am. I've been nervous all day."

Yasmin looked at her mother.

"See, I told you he was feeling the same way," Nadia whispered something to Yasmin, then turned to Sayid, "I thought you could stay for dinner."

Sayid looked at Yasmin, "Would that be all right?"

Yasmin shrugged. More silence.

Nadia spoke again. "I don't know what you like, so I thought we could order in."

Before Sayid could answer, Yasmin giggled.

"Okay," Nadia admitted, "We order in a lot. I don't cook."

Sayid managed to keep a straight face, but Nadia saw the amusement in his eyes.

"But, I cooked breakfast for you today," she reminded her daughter.

Yasmin rolled her eyes at her mother, "Scrambled eggs. I can do that myself. Laurel lets Grace and me when I stay over."

This time Sayid laughed out loud.

"Oh, so this is how it's going to be," Nadia smiled, "I may not cook, but I have other talents."

"I remember," Sayid's eyes met hers. His gaze made her warm all over.

Realizing what she had said, she blushed. That hadn't been what she meant.She'd forgotten his sly wit.

Thankfully the exchange and Nadia's embarrassment went unnoticed by Yasmin.

"Mama grows flowers, lots of them," she said to Sayid. "They're out back. Do you want to see?"

To Nadia's relief, Yasmin shyly wrapped her hand around her father's and led him outside. From the window she watched them walk through the garden. Yasmin was talking and he was leaning toward her, taking in every word. Nadia didn't realize she was crying until a tear splashed on the windowsill. She wiped the tears away. Maybe it was going to be all right. She thought about joining them ,but decided it would be better to leave them alone for awhile.

They had a very late dinner of Greek take out that Yasmin was almost too tired to eat. After supper Nadia got out some photo albums for Sayid to look at while she put Yasmin to bed. Soon, she came back out to the living room.

"She wants you to say goodnight," she smiled at him, "but you'd better hurry, she's fading fast."

"She didn't eat much. Did we keep her up too late?"

"She'll be fine, go say goodnight," Nadia leaned in the doorway, watching him make his way down the hall and into Yasmin's room.

He came out a few minutes later. "She's sleeping, he said, "She's really something. You've done a good job."

"Thank you. I love being her mother."

"It shows," he glanced at the clock on the wall, "I should probably go. Are you going to work tomorrow?"

"Yes, and Yasmin needs to go back to school. You can come over for dinner, if you want."

"More take out?" he teased.

"Probably," she smiled, "unless you want scrambled eggs."

"No, I don't think so." he said, laughing.

They walked out onto the porch. He took her hand, and this time she turned to him initiating the kiss, soft and lingering. Nadia felt tears sting her eyes as she pulled away. Sayid gently touched her face, and they stood for a moment holding hands. She leaned her head against his chest, "I'm glad you're here," she said softly.

Sayid smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow," he let his fingers trail from hers.

Nadia sat on the step and watched until she couldn't see him anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

Walking back to the motel Sayid turned the events of the day over in his mind. Nadia had done an amazing job with Yasmin. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been being the only parent, the only one to be responsible and make decisions. Nadia didn't seem at all resentful, but he still felt the guilt of not being there for them. He thought of how different things would have been if he had been able to find her in London. They would have been a family, and he could have shared the burden. At least Nadia was willing to let him share it now. She said she was glad he was here. For her, for Yasmin, or for both of them he wasn't sure.

Sayid spent Friday morning in the motel looking through the photo album Nadia had given him. Seeing the pictures, watching as Yasmin grew on each page, made him more aware of all he had missed, birthdays and first days of school, a broken arm. How had that happened? All of the events of eight years. There were only a few shots of Yasmin with Nadia. He wondered who had taken those. In those photos, except for the curly hair, Yasmin looked a lot like her mother, but the serious eyes staring out at him from even the happiest pictures were not Nadia's eyes, but his own. It was unsettling.

The motel room seemed empty and he found himself watching the time as the afternoon wore on. He wondered what Yasmin was doing in school. He was anxious to see her again. To see Nadia, too, truthfully. He was glad when six o'clock came and he could get ready to go. He rarely cared about what he wore, but tonight he even ironed his shirt. He wasn't sure who he was trying to impress.

They ordered Chinese food when he arrived, Yasmin's favorite, and ate on the floor in the living room. During dinner he watched the two of them interact. Yasmin told her mother about school and Nadia knew what questions to ask to keep her talking. Being a mother was obviously a natural role for Nadia, while he had no idea how to act, or what to say. He felt like an outsider, even though he knew Nadia's questioning was for his benefit. If he could focus, and listen, he would learn a lot about his daughter. But his thoughts kept drifting to Nadia.

After supper, Yasmin wanted to play checkers. Nadia claimed exhaustion so sat and watched. Sayid stole a glance at her every so often and when their eyes met, she smiled. He won the first game easily, and realized that playing with Walt had not prepared him for games with his own child. He gave Nadia a sheepish grin, backed off his competitive side and led his daughter to win the second and third games. Nadia allowed Yasmin a late night as tomorrow was Saturday, but by the end of the third game she was yawning.

"I think a busy few days is catching up with someone," Nadia said.

"I'm not tired," Yasmin protested.

"Let's get ready for bed anyway, then you can stay up a little while longer if you want."

Yasmin turned to Sayid, "Will you tuck me in?"

Sayid was taken off guard. Just what was involved here? This routine had not been a part of his childhood. His parents had usually been too busy or tired to offer more than a kiss goodnight. He remembered his grandfather telling stories before bed when he was very young, but beyond that, nothing. Yet Yasmin was offering him something, and he knew he needed to take it, no matter how much it terrified him.

"Okay."

Nadia left to help Yasmin get ready for bed. Sayid sat and wondered how he was going to get through this without making a fool of himself. A picture of Sawyer reading the car magazine to Aaron came to mind and he chuckled. He hoped he wouldn't look as out of place as Sawyer had. He didn't think a car magazine would work with his daughter, though. Long before he was ready, Nadia came back into the living room.

"She's waiting for you," she raised her eyebrows as if to say she knew he was nervous, but it was best to get on with it. "You survived a plane crash, I think you'll live through this, " she smiled encouragingly.

When he entered the bedroom, Yasmin was sitting on the edge of the bed swinging her bare feet and staring at the floor. Her braids were gone and her long hair hid her face from him. She looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He sat down on the bed beside her. Maybe it was best to be honest, it had worked yesterday.

"I'm not really sure what to do. How does this work?"

Yasmin looked at him in surprise, then she smiled, "Do you want me to read to you?"

"That would be good," he started to relax a little.

Yasmin hopped off the bed and pulled her bookbag off the hook on the wall. She reached inside and pulled out a book, put it back, and pulled out another. Finally she found what she was looking for. She came back over and jumped back up beside him.

"This one is funny," she told him, "it's about a worm."

She read the first few pages, then looked at him questioningly, "You aren't laughing. Look at the pictures, it's funny...see, he's a worm...'hopscotch is a dan..a dan'...," she stopped.

"Dangerous," he supplied the word, smiling.

"Yeah, dangerous game...see, it's dangerous because he's a worm...he could get squished!" she giggled.

Evidently he didn't understand eight-year-old humor. He listened to the rest of the story and tried to smile at the appropriate times. His timing was off, reacting to her, so he didn't think Yasmin was fooled for a minute, but she didn't act disappointed.

"You read very well," he told her when she had finished.

"I know. That's what Mrs. Crawford says, " she yawned, "Now you should tell me a story." She looked up at him expectantly. This was a challenge.

"What kind of stories do you like?"

"Mama tells me stories about you. Do you know any stories about her?" She yawned again and leaned against him sleepily. This was the closest he had ever been to his daughter. What should he do? Tentatively he put his arm around her. She snuggled in closer. A fierce protectiveness came over him. There was really only one story about Nadia that he could share with a child, withtheir child.

"I know a story," he said, "Do you want to know what she was like when she was a little girl?"

Yasmin looked up and nodded. "Turn the light out first."

Sayid reached over and turned off the light.

Yasmin wiggled under the covers. "What did she do?"

"Well, whenever we played in the neighborhood she used to chase me, and push me down," his daughter's eyes widened in surprise, "she did it almost every day. Once she pushed me in the mud."

"Why?"

"She says it was because I didn't pay any attention to her," he smiled.

"Why not?"

"Why didn't I pay attention to her? I don't know. I was shy, I guess, and she was a girl."

He made a disgusted face and Yasmin giggled. He liked making her laugh.

"Was she pretty?"

'Yes, she was very pretty. Like you."

"But she liked you."

"Yes, I guess she did."

"Did you like her?"

This wasn't what Sayid had planned when he began this story. He thought Yasmin would be asleep by now. Instead she was obviously very interested in this first encounter between her mother and father.

"Yes, but I didn't like being pushed down."

"I wouldn't like that either." Yasmin closed her eyes. "Do you like her now?"

"Yes, I like her now."

"Good."

"You need to go to sleep," he kissed her forehead, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Will you tell me another story?"

At least he would have some time to think of something. "Yes, I'll tell you another story. Goodnight Yasmin."

"Goodnight Daddy."

Sayid froze in the doorway. How could one simple word make his heart beat so fast? He stood for a long time watching her sleep, wondering at all of the emotions that swept over him. He loved her more than he had known was possible. He would do anything to protect this child.


	10. Chapter 10

He found Nadia in the kitchen, making tea. "I see you're still alive," she teased. "How did it go?" He didn't answer so she turned to face him and saw the raw emotion in his eyes.

"Are you all right? What happened?" She took a deep breath, wondering what could have gone wrong.

"I just didn't expect..." Sayid sat down at the table and stared straight ahead. Then he looked at Nadia. "I've never felt this way before. This is a different sort of love, isn't it?" He shook his head. "How do you do it everyday?"

Nadia put a cup of tea in front of him and sat down with her own. "When she was a baby, I used to lie awake at night and watch her sleep for hours. I would even getup to make sure she was breathing," she smiled at the memory. "I still go in her room sometimes at night, just to be close to her."

"So this is normal?."

"Yes. You're just getting a late start," she reached across for his hand. "You are going to be good at this. I can see it. Give yourself time." She got up. "There's more tea, unless you have to go." She hoped he didn't think she was hinting for him to leave. She didn't want him to, she realized, wasn't clear what she wanted if he stayed.

"Just a little, thank you." He stretched his legs out under the table.

"Do you want to sit outside? It's more comfortable." She pushed open the back door and led the way to a tiny patio.

"I didn't see this before," he said. .

"It's easy to miss. The garden hides it from the house." Nadia sat in one of the low slung wooden chairs and swung her legs over the arm rest. He sat in the other, close beside her. They were quiet, drinking the strong tea and listening to the night sounds.

Finally, Nadia broke the silence, "What are you thinking?"

Sayid didn't answer for a moment, then she heard him take a deep breath.. "I don't want to leave," he said.

She waited, to see if there was more. When he didn't add anything, she said, "I don't want you to go, either."

He reached out and took her hand. She couldn't see his face for the shadows, but she heard him sigh. He pulled her hand gently and she went to him, sitting on the arm of the chair. He tugged again, and she slid off the arm into his lap. She looked into his eyes, so serious.

"You could sleep on the couch," she joked, needing to break the tension.

His eyes flashed, and he smiled, "That isn't exactly what I had in mind."

He kissed her then, hard on the mouth. She pulled back slightly, then returned the kiss, softer, sweeter, enjoying the play. His hands slid into her hair and he held her face close insisting on the kiss he had started.

After a few moments she broke away, breathless. She got up, taking his hand. She felt him following behind her as she walked into the house, through the kitchen, down the hall, past Yasmin's room, and into her own.

He stood behind her, his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. She closed her eyes, covering his hands with her own, and leaned into him. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, and whispered in her ear, his voice hoarse, "I couldn't forget. I tried, but I never stopped loving you."

She turned to face him, finding his eyes in the dark. "I didn't forget. I saw you everyday, every time I looked at her."

He kissed her again. She was hungry for him, his mouth, his hands, his skin against hers, the coming together that felt like coming home. She let all of the love for him she had hidden for so long surface and carry them both away.

Nadia lay with her head on his chest, listening as his heartbeat slowed. His breathing told her he was almost asleep. She was tired too, but she wanted to stay awake as long as she could, just to be with him. Every time he left, even though she knew he would be back, she felt more alone somehow. She could barely wait to see him again.

Sleep took her eventually, and she woke to find him propped on one elbow, watching her. "Good morning," she said, smiling.

"It's not quite morning yet," he pointed to the window, "See, still dark."

She stretched, catlike, and rolled onto her side facing him. "So we should go back to sleep?" she teased.

"I am not the least bit sleepy at the moment."

She made a show of peeking under the sheet. "So I see, " she faked a yawn, "I usually sleep in on Saturday."

"Maybe I can wake you up." He kissed her, and his hands moved the sheet away.

It was light outside when they woke again. Nadia looked at the clock. Sayid seemed to read her thoughts.

"When does she get up?" He asked.

"Not for a while yet."

"I should go. I'll take a shower at the motel and change clothes, then come back."

"I don't want to confuse her," Nadia said. "She doesn't need to know everything."

She pulled on a robe while he dressed quickly. When they walked past Yasmin's open door she was tangled in the covers, sound asleep. Nadia followed him onto the porch.

He pulled her close and kissed her once more, then stepped off the porch. "I'll be back in an hour or so, unless you want to call me when she gets up."

"She should be up by then. We go to the Farmer's Market on Saturdays."

"For take-out?" he joked.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I do keep food in the house."

He started back up onto the porch but she pointed her finger at him, "Go!"

"I'll be back."

I know. Nadia thought , wrapping her arms around herself.


	11. Chapter 11

Shannon kept the paper with the phone number for Sayid's motel, but until last night she hadn't called. Last minute plans for the memorial service and meetings with Sabrina about upcoming company events kept her busy and truthfully, she hadn't really wanted to talk to him. There wasn't anything else to say. But drinks with friends had made her brave and lonely, a dangerous combination. So she called the motel number. When there was no answer first she hung up; then she called back and left a message with the time and place for the memorial service.

The more she thought about it, the surer she was that she had been right to leave. It was painful to realize, but their relationship just couldn't work. It was selfish, she knew, but she didn't want to share him. Especially not with a child, and never with Nadia's child. There would be no end to his involvement with Nadia. But maybe it wasn't complete selfishness on her part. Shannon knew what it was like to have a step-mother who pretended you didn't exist. It wasn't something she would wish on anyone, even Nadia's daughter.

Worse than ending it now would be watching it decay from within if they stayed together. Her resenting the time he spent with his daughter, and him sensing her jealousy and insecurity over a child. A child, Shannon knew without a doubt, he had already fallen in love with. No matter how much she wished it to be different, Yasmin was not going to go away.

Boone's memorial was scheduled for Monday afternoon, less than two days away now. Several of his friends were flying in from all over the globe to do most of the speaking. Sabrina had been most insistent that Shannon deliver part of the eulogy, but she had refused. It would be hard enough listening to it all. Shannon feared that combined with the rift with Sayid it would be too much and she'd end up losing it in front of everyone. She could see that splattered all over the 6 o'clock news. "Craphole Island Crash Survivor Loses It at Brother's Funeral". No thanks.

Shannon closed the office door and sat in the huge leather chair that had been Boone's. She closed her eyes and leaned back. Tears rolled slowly down her face A little over a year ago he was sitting here when she called from Australia. Of course, he dropped everything and flew down to rescue her. He was Boone. Now he was dead. Would someone please tell her how that wasn't her fault? Sayid had said that Boone had free will, it was his choice to help her. But Shannon knew that Boone had never had a choice when it came to her.

She wondered if Sayid would come. It would be like him to want to attend, in spite of where he thought things stood between them. Where did things stand between them? She wished she knew for certain how he felt. She'd really never given him a chance to tell her. Regardless, he would see this as some kind of duty. And seeing him felt like one as well.

The only other survivor Shannon half-expected to see was Jack. The guilt the doctor carried over her brother's death would probably require him to be there. Locke was gone, Claire was in Australia. No one else she could think of cared enough about Boone, or her for that matter, to show up at a belated funeral. They had said their goodbyes on the island. Maybe they all should have done that


	12. Chapter 12

Sayid didn't see the message light on the phone flashing until he got out of the shower. He picked up the receiver, expecting Nadia's voice. Instead, he heard Shannon, obviously having been drinking. He listened to her recite the details about Boone's memorial service and hung up the phone. He wrote the day and time down on the notepad from the night stand. It wasn't likely he would forget, but it seemed like something he should write down.

He sat heavily on the bed and ran his hands through his damp hair. Of course he would go, but what would he say? It would be the first time he had seen her since she walked out. He sighed and paced around the motel room. Had he used Shannon? That had never been his intention. When he made the decision to stop isolating himself on the island and start trusting people, Shannon had been there. After Rousseau he needed her. After Boone's death, she needed him. He didn't regret what they had shared, but he was sorry for the pain it brought her now. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. But this had hurt her, he knew. Now he would have to face her. Would the pain he caused be there in her eyes, or would the mask of indifference she wore so well have slipped back into place? He didn't know which would be worse.

As he got ready to go back to Nadia's he thought about the last few days. Even a week ago he could not have imagined this scenario. In an odd sense, he was happy. The prospect of being a father and getting to know Yasmin, thrilled him. The rekindling of his relationship with Nadia was everything he had hoped for during his years of searching. And yet, there was a bittersweet aura over all of it because of Shannon. The memorial service would mean saying goodbye, not just to Boone, who had already been mourned, but to everything that had happened on the island. It was time to move on.


	13. Chapter 13

_More thanks than I can properly express go to Purple-Goose. Without her this chapter may well have never been finished._

When Sayid got to the church, he hesitated before climbing the steps. A dozen or so expensively dressed older women stood in the entranceway. They looked him up and down as he walked in, and he was glad for the jacket and tie Nadia had suggested he wear. He felt strange with it on, though. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn one.

He took a program from the usher and entered the sanctuary. Glancing around, he saw no sign of Shannon. He took a seat near the back and tried not to look as uncomfortable and out of place as he felt. Lost in thought he hardly noticed when a dark-suited Jack slipped into the pew next to him.

"Sayid, I thought you'd be here."

Sayid turned and took the hand Jack offered, then clapped the other man on the back. It was good to see him, despite the circumstances.

"Where's Shannon?" Jack asked "I figured you'd be sitting with her."

"We aren't...I haven't seen her..." Sayid sighed. "It's a rather long story."

Jack eyed him curiously, but didn't press further. Instead, he held up his left hand, showing Sayid the ring there.

"You and Kate?" Sayid asked, surprised.

"Got married. Yeah," Jack grinned. "Friday, in the judge's chambers, after her arraignment Two armed guards outside the door...talk about a shotgun wedding." Too late Jack realized that the expression, and therefore the joke, was wasted on Sayid.

"Shotgun wedding?" Sayid looked puzzled.

"Never mind," Jack chuckled, and looked around the church. Then turning to Sayid he asked, "So, what happened with Shannon?"

Sayid reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a photograph of Yasmin. He wasn't sure why he had brought it. Maybe to remind himself of why this was necessary, or maybe as a talisman of sorts, to help him get through it. Now he handed it to Jack.

The doctor looked at him in surprise and was about to respond when the pianist started playing and they looked up to see Shannon and Sabrina enter from the side and sit in the front pew. Shannon's attention was focused on her stepmother and Sayid was relieved when she didn't look towards where he was sitting. The music ended and a tall blond man in a cleric's collar, got up and thanked them all for coming. He acknowledged Sabrina and Shannon and gestured a welcome to all that were there.

He walked to the altar and opened the Bible. He read a verse about there being a time for everything. Sayid was not familiar with many Bible verses, but this one made sense. Turning back to the crowd the pastor smiled, "Sabrina and Shannon assure me that Boone would have hated all this formality, so let's dispense with it."

He introduced another young man, Kurt somebody, Boone's college roommate. After that a procession of five or six of Boone's friends shared stories and memories. This was not the Boone of the island, the Boone Sayid had known, but Sayid noted that here there were many to speak to his loss, when on the island there had been only one. Sayid couldn't remember now what he had said. He only remembered wanting to somehow ease Shannon's pain.

Just when it seemed as if the speeches were finished Shannon stood in the front pew and turned to face the crowd.

"I wasn't going to say anything today," she began, putting her hand on Sabrina's shoulder, "But I realized that wasn't right. Boone was my brother and he always took care of me. He deserves a goodbye," she paused and cleared her throat. "We didn't always get along," Shannon smiled, and many in the pews, including Sabrina, nodded in agreement. "But I never doubted his love. I only hope he knows how much I loved him, too, and how much I will always miss him." With that, Shannon smiled tightlyand sat back down.

Now the lights dimmed and a slide show began. Pictures of Boone flashed on the screen. Boone as a baby, as a child, with his parents, and of course, with Shannon. The slide show was difficult for Sayid to watch, not only because of Shannon, but also because his new role as a parent gave him an understanding of Sabrina's pain. After only knowing Yasmin for a few days, he couldn't imagine losing his daughter. His stomach lurched at the thought. Did a parent ever get over the loss of a child? The pastor ended the service with a prayer and invited them all downstairs to greet the family.

Jack turned to Sayid, still holding the photograph. "Yours?" he asked, "Who's her mother?" Then remembering, he answered his own question. "The woman you were searching for? You never mentioned a child... you didn't know?"

"Not until a few days ago," Sayid said quietly.

"Shannon couldn't handle it," Jack said, handing the photo back. It wasn't a question.

They made their way downstairs but hung to the back of the long, winding line making its way slowly toward Sabrina and Shannon. Both men were absorbed in their own thoughts, in their own regrets, as they inched closer to the two women. Jack reached Shannon first, greeted her with a hug, and endured a lengthy introduction to Boone's mother who grew teary-eyed meeting the man who shared her son's last moments. Sabrina wanted all of the details, so they moved off to the side, leaving Sayid and Shannon alone, staring at each other.

Sayid's mouth was dry. All the words he had thought of saying evaporated in an instant. He stood there, clenching and unclenching his hands, unable to speak.

"I didn't think you'd come," Shannon lied, looking past him to where Sabrina was talking with Jack.

"How could I not come? I knew how hard this would be for you."

Shannon gave a short laugh, "Yeah, well, seeing you just makes it harder."

"It was not my intention to make it worse," Sayid glanced around the crowded room. "I wanted to make sure you were all right."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the floor. "Oh, you did, huh? Well, I'm not. But that isn't your problem anymore, is it?" Her hiss drew attention and an odd look of disapproval from Sabrina.

"I do not want to have this conversation here, Shannon," Sayid reached up and loosened his tie.

"Why does it matter where we have it? It's all the same, right? It isn't going to change anything. Whatever you have to say to me you can say it here." Her eyes flashed anger, but he could see something breakable just beneath the surface.

Sayid sighed, "I am sorry for this. Sorry for hurting you. I did not know..."

"You knew!" Shannon's voice grew louder, "You didn't know you had a child, but you knew how you felt about Nadia. Don't lie and tell me you didn't. No more lies, O.K.? Let's at least be honest."

"Shannon," Sayid looked around to see if her outburst had attracted more attention. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her, "Can't we talk somewhere else?"

"Okay. You know what? I have a few things to say to you, too,".She turned and walked away from him, heels clicking on the hard floor. He caught Jack's eye.

Jack raised his eyebrows questioningly, "I'll see you outside?" he mouthed, pointing to the exit.

Sayid nodded, and continued to follow Shannon down a narrow hall and into a small room, obviously an office. Books lined the walls and there was a desk at one end with two chairs in front of it. As soon as he entered the room Shannon whirled and spat at him, "Okay...here we are...someplace else...let's say what we have to say and then you can get out."

Sayid rubbed his hands over his eyes. "I'm sorry I did not tell you the whole truth. I thought it did not matter. We were on an island, Shannon, with no way off that we could see. What do you want me to say? That I knew all along what I was doing? That all of this was planned?"

"You knew if we were rescued that you'd go to her, didn't you? You knew where she was, right? That's why you were on the plane."

"Yes, that's why I was on the plane. Yes, I was searching for her because I loved her, but she had become a dream, and you were real."

"If I was real, if what we had was real, why did you have to find her now?" all the anger seemed to drain out of her, and she sank into one of the chairs, staring up at him.

"I had to know," he sat in the other chair, facing her. "I was so close. I wasn't able to walk away. It doesn't mean I did not love you."

"Not enough."

"Enough for what? To deny my own child? To abandon her mother? Do you really think I would ever do that? Could you even love someone who would do that?"

Shannon shook her head, "Come off it ,Sayid, If you hadn't gone looking for her again, you wouldn't have known."

"And that would be better?" His jaw set stubbornly and his eyes darkened.

"Yes," Shannon answered quietly, her voice almost a whisper, "That would be better."

"Better for you, perhaps. But would it be better for Yasmin not to know me? You grew up without a parent, Shannon, do you wish that on her?"

"That's not fair, Sayid," Shannon thought about who she was before, and who she was becoming. A year ago she would not have cared about some faceless child. Now, because of the island, because of this man, she knew what she had to do.

"The island was the dream, or might as well have been. I don't know about you, but I'm wide awake now and back to reality. We never could have worked here, child or no child." she stood up and walked to the door. "Today is about saying goodbye. I said goodbye to Boone, now I'm saying it to you. Goodbye, Sayid. Leave. Go home. Go back to your daughter, back to Nadia. That's what you want, and that's where you should be. Don't beat yourself up. Don't 'poor Shannon' me. You didn't end this. I did." She stopped and took a breath.

Sayid looked stunned. "Shannon...I..."

Shannon opened the door, " Get out. This is over."

Sayid walked past her and down the hall waiting for the door to slam, but the sound never came. He found Jack in the parking lot, leaning up against a black Mercedes, smoking a cigarette.

"You okay?" Jack asked, "What happened in there?"

Sayid took the tie off and unbuttoned his collar."Shannon grew up," he smiled a sad smile.

"Come on, get in. I'll give you a ride home."

"Ventura is over an hour from here, you do not have to do that."

"Borrowed Mother's car." Jack said, smiling, "I'm driving without a license, too. Might as well push my luck. I've got nothing better to do."

After driving in stop and go traffic for almost an hour, Jack suggested they get something to eat, and head for Ventura once the late afternoon rush was over. They pulled into a steakhouse and the hostess led them to a deep booth in the back. Sayid ordered coffee, black. Jack ordered a scotch, then shook his head, calling the waitress back. "Make that coffee, same as his."

The waitress came back with a pot of coffee and two cups, which she sat on the table. She poured the coffee, took their order, and left to place it with the kitchen. "So what's her name...your daughter?" Jack asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Yasmin," Sayid smiled.

"That's a pretty name. Let me see the picture again."

Sayid reached into his pocket and handed Jack the photo. Jack looked at it, and back at Sayid. "Lucky girl, she must look like her mother," he grinned.

"For the most part, yes," Sayid said, laughing, "But unfortunately she seems to have inherited my stubbornness, at least from what Nadia tells me."

"That's not always a bad quality. So, are you...together, you and her mother?"

"Maybe, I hope so. It is too soon to say for sure."

The waitress brought their salads and conversation lulled while they ate.

"How is Kate?" Sayid asked, after the salad plates were empty. He watched Jack's expression carefully.

"She's okay, really," Jack nodded, "The arraignment wasn't bad. She agreed to extradition in exchange for dropping the fleeing charges."

"Where will she go now?"

"Iowa. That's where the original charges were filed."

Their steaks came, and Sayid found himself surprisingly hungry. For the first time since leaving the island, he ate until everything was gone.

Jack lit another cigarette and poured a cup of coffee. "You're too polite to ask what she did." he observed.

"It does not matter to me what she did. She proved the person she is to me on the island. Nothing changes that."

"Yeah. I know. Wish the law felt the same way. It's manslaughter, by the way. She shot her father, although whether the guy was her real father or not isn't too clear, maybe even to her. Whatever he was, he was a son-of-a-bitch."

"As I said, it does not matter to me what she did," he sipped his coffee, "It does not matter to you, either."

"No, you're right, it doesn't. Hey, I almost forgot. Did you get your letter?."

"Letter?"

"From the airline, about the settlement."

"No. It may have gone to the hotel where Shannon and I were staying before...I should call, see if it's there. What did it say?"

"It's a good offer. We all have to sign off on it though. If one of us balks, then the whole thing is off."

"So it may be awhile before we get anything?"

"Looks that way. I can't imagine anyone rejecting this, but you never know. People get greedy."

"I will have to look for a job anyway," Sayid said, "When will you go back to work?"

"Not going back," Jack said, "Not to surgery anyway. I've applied to the emergency medicine department at a couple of hospitals. LA Doctors looks like a possibility. I want to work where I can do the most good. Surgery doesn't interest me anymore. What kind of job are you looking for?"

"Anything, really. I am comfortable with mechanics, or computers. I could translate. Nadia's neighbor works for a law firm that does a lot of work helping detainees and immigrants. They need someone who speaks Arabic. It would only be part time, but I am thinking I should take it for now."

The check came. Pulling out a credit card, Jack insisted on paying. "It's not on me," he said, "It's on Mother."

Back on the highway they were almost to the Ventura exit when Jack saw the flashing lights in the rearview mirror. "Crap," he said, glancing sideways at Sayid. "Good thing I didn't have that scotch." Jack pulled over and rolled down the window.

The officer walked to the car, "We had a report of a stolen car matching this description. License and registration, please."

Jack chuckled, "Well, that's just it officer, This isn't my car and I don't have a license. You see, my friend and I, we were just rescued after a year stranded on a fucking island..." Sayid cringed in the passenger seat.

"Okay, Smartass. Out of the car! Both of you." The officer put his hand on his gun and watched them carefully. After frisking them both, he got the registration out of the glove box. "Who is Margo Shephard?"

"My mother." Jack said.

"Well, 'son', your 'mother' reported this car stolen an hour ago. I'm going to have to take you two in. You can call 'Mommy' from the station and see what she says." The officer loaded them in the back of the cruiser and called for a tow truck.

Jack looked at Sayid. "Sorry about this." To his surprise, Sayid was laughing.

"We are in trouble because you told him the truth," he said, "Most people would at least try to lie."

Jack laughed, too, and the cop looked at them in the rearview mirror as if they were nuts.

At the station, Jack had no luck with his mother. "She's punishing me for being alive while my father is dead," he told Sayid, "That and marrying a fugitive. Not exactly her idea of the perfect daughter-in-law."

"I'll call Nadia," Sayid said, "She will come and get us."

Nadia was not happy when she arrived at the police station, a sleepy Yasmin in tow, "I had to wake her up," she said to Sayid. "What in the world happened?"

Sayid picked up his daughter and gestured to Jack, who stood for the awkward introduction. Once things were explained, Nadia relaxed and her smile returned. "It is nice to meet you," she told Jack, as they walked out to the car, "Although I might have preferred a different location."

"Me, too." Jack agreed.

Sayid slipped into the back seat and Yasmin lay her head in his lap. Jack turned around in the front seat to look at her, then back to Nadia. "Is there a motel near here?"

"Sayid's motel is on the other side of town. I just want to get her home. You can sleep on the couch at the house, if that is alright."

"Yes, that's fine."

When they got to the house Nadia pulled blankets and a pillow from the closet for Jack while Sayid carried Yasmin in. He started for the child's bedroom when Nadia stopped him, "Put her in my room. You can sleep in hers." Her look told him there was no discussing it. Jack caught Sayid's eye and grinned, shrugging, as if to say "nice try."

Jack awoke to the sound of pots and pans and the smell of coffee. He sat up and saw Sayid's daughter looking at him shyly from the doorway to the kitchen. He sat up and smiled at her. "Morning," he said. The child flashed a smile and disappeared back into the kitchen. Jack got up, straightened his clothing as best he could, and made his way after her.

Yasmin was sitting on the floor stuffing papers into a bookbag. Sayid had his head in the refrigerator and was handing something to Nadia who stood at the stove. "Hey," Jack said, "I didn't know breakfast came with the great digs. What's on the menu?"

"Scrambled eggs," Yasmin said from the floor.

To Jack's amazement, all three of them burst out laughing. "Is there something I should know about these eggs?" he asked.

Let's just say they are my specialty and leave it at that," said Nadia, smiling. "I hope you slept all right."

"Yes, I did, thanks."

There was only room for three of them at the table, so Sayid sat Yasmin on his lap as they ate. Jack noted that while Yasmin did look like her mother, seeing father and daughter close together brought out a definite resemblance.

"Great eggs," said Jack, grinning. Yasmin giggled. Jack looked at Sayid, "I suppose I'd better call my mother and apologize so she'll come and get me."

"I can give you a ride into the city, if you like," Nadia offered. "But I need to leave in a few minutes,

"That would be great. Then I can catch a cab and go see Kate. Apologizing to Mother can wait."

Nadia looked at Sayid, "Can you get her to school? Grace is sick today, so Laurel can't take her."

"On our way," he grabbed Yasmin's bag and turned to Jack, "Thanks for the ride...and all, it was... fun," he smiled. " Stay in touch."

"Yeah, you, too. I'll leave a number with Nadia."

"Let's go," Sayid said to Yasmin, and they all headed out the door.


	14. Chapter 14

Nadia held the cup of tea in both hands and walked through the quiet house. Sayid had taken Yasmin to soccer practice but she had opted to stay home, hoping to work in the garden. In the six months since he had come back into their lives, Nadia had struggled to give Sayid and Yasmin the space to develop a relationship apart from her. Yasmin's sudden interest in soccer seemed to indicate the effort was working.

She stood in the window looking out at the garden, noting what areas needed the most attention. The sunlight streaming in caught the ring on her finger and she twisted it absentmindedly. She hadn't wanted an engagement ring, but when the airline settlement came, Sayid had insisted.

"If you don't help me choose I will pick the gaudiest ring I can find," he had teased with a smile, "And you will have to wear it to spare my feelings."

After much protesting, she chose a simple solitaire in a plain setting. When he gave it to her later however, instead of the plain setting there were four tiny diamonds on each side of the larger one. "One for each year we were apart," he told her.

Nadia was not sentimental, but the ring was truly a symbol of Sayid's love for her, and she treasured it. One day soon, they had decided, they would simply go to the courthouse, get the license, and get married right there.

She told Laurel about it as she worked in the garden later that morning.

"You can't be serious!" Laurel said, dropping to the ground beside her.

Nadia looked up, holding the weeds she had pulled in one hand. With the other she brushed the hair from her eyes. "Why not?'

"Why not? You know exactly what I'm talking about! You two've been through all this...eight years of waiting, and you're going to get married in some dark, musty judge's office? You just can't!" Laurel's green eyes widened and Nadia laughed.

"It doesn't matter to me where we get married," she said, continuing down the row of plants, "Where would you have us go? Certainly not to a church, and I have not been in a mosque since Yasmin was a baby." Her eyes darkened remembering the stares and rejection when all she had wanted was something, anything, to remind her of home. "I won't go back." She stood and threw the weeds into the trash can beside her.

Laurel looked around, "So have it here," she suggested, "Here in the garden."

"Here? How can we do that?" Nadia picked up the pruning scissors and walked around picking and choosing among the blooms.

Glad that Nadia at least seemed interested, Laurel followed her, thinking on her feet. "I know we could find a judge who would be happy to come here. You could invite just a few people, friends, family...I could do the food for after...it would be simple, nothing fancy." Laurel looked at her hopefully.

"We don't have family, really. My parents are dead, Sayid's too, most likely. I have an aunt in Egypt, but we haven't been in touch. She would never travel so far." She pulled together the flowers she had cut and handed the bouquet to Laurel.

"Friends, then," Laurel said, taking the flowers and squeezing her hand, "Neighbors."

"I will think about it, talk to Sayid."

"Good! Now, the important thing...what are you going to wear? We have to go shopping for you, and for Yasmin, too."

Nadia laughed. For Laurel, tall and elegant, clothes were collectible and shopping an adventure to be relished. Nadia considered clothing necessary and serviceable, and shopping a chore. She had to admit though, that most of the flattering items in her closet had been thrust at her by Laurel on infrequent trips to the mall with the admonishment "Buy this." She couldn't argue with the woman's taste.

"Come on," Laurel said now, "Let's have a cup of tea and talk about dresses." Nadia rolled her eyes but followed her friend next door and into the house.

An hour later Nadia heard the car door slam as she stepped out of the shower. She had gotten away from Laurel only by promising a dress-shopping trip and lunch in L.A. next Saturday. Now she threw on a robe and greeted Yasmin as she ran down the hallway.

"Mama, Guess what? I'm going to play forward...that's what Daddy played,"

Nadia had no idea what a forward did, but she hugged her daughter. "That's great, honey. Good job."

Sayid followed her in, beaming, "She remembered everything I showed her. You should have seen her."

"Can I go tell Grace?" Yasmin was already halfway out the door.

"Yes, go ahead," Nadia smiled at Sayid, "She's so excited," she shook her head, "About soccer? I don't think she knew the difference between a soccer ball and a basketball six months ago."

"And here I thought you had done such a good job on your own," He reached out and pulled her close for a kiss, his tongue brushing her lips. Nadia resisted the desire that flashed through her.

"Yasmin will be right back." she whispered.

As if on cue, the door slammed and she came running in," Laurel said she'd take us for ice cream...can I go?"

"You haven't even had lunch..." Nadia began.

"Yes, go." Sayid said, pulling out his wallet and handing Yasmin some money. Yasmin looked at her mother.

Nadia smiled and shook her head at Sayid, "All right, go ahead...have fun," Yasmin ran out and Nadia looked up at him, "You just bribed our daughter."

"I am not the one who offered ice cream."

"Laurel," Nadia smiled.

"Remind me to thank her."

She started to reply, but his hands slipped inside her robe and she lost the breath to speak. He backed her slowly into the bedroom, his hands on her waist. She kissed his throat, inhaling the scent of his skin, and her fingers deftly undid the buttons on his shirt. His hand cupped her breast and they fell together to the bed, barely stopping to discard their remaining clothing.

Later, wrapped in his arms, Nadia brought up Laurel's idea for the wedding. "What do you think?" she asked.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes, I think so. It does sound nicer than some judge's office, doesn't it?"

"Then that's what we'll do. When?"

"Soon," she kissed him and got up to get dressed, "Very soon."

To Nadia's surprise, planning for the wedding went much quicker than she imagined. Laurel found a judge who was available on the date they had chosen, a little over a month away. They nixed invitations, deciding instead to simply ask a few people to come. Sayid called Jack, who promised to be there. Nadia asked two of the girls from work, along with their husbands. Those few, plus Laurel and Grace, and another neighbor, made up the entire guest list.

Yasmin was excited and eager to help with anything remotely connected to the ceremony. She had chosen her dress, and tried it on at least once a day. Nadia's dress however, was proving difficult to find. She had already endured two shopping trips with Laurel without finding anything she liked.

"We have to find something today," Laurel told her one Saturday. "The wedding is in three weeks. I'm not bringing you home until you have a dress."

Nadia laughed, "Are we going to sleep in the car tonight?"

"If we have to," Laurel looked grim. She was on a mission.

A few minutes later she pulled the jeep into an almost deserted parking lot in a run down strip mall.

"Where are we?" Nadia asked, looking around.

"It's my secret," Laurel told her. "Come on."

Nadia followed her into a small shop. A hand lettered sign on the door said 'Vintage Clothing'. Ignoring the sullen clerk at the register, Laurel went straight to the back of the store and commandeered the owner to help them. Nadia liked the woman immediately, but wondered aloud whether there was anything suitable here.

"I have two more rooms full in the back," the woman assured her, "We'll find you something. I go to all the estate sales. I have things here that could be in museums!"

Laurel smiled at Nadia, "I got the feeling you've been looking for something unique. If we can't find it here, we won't find it."

The owner looked Nadia up and down and had her turn around. "Nothing too long. Tea length, I think, since you're so petite," She tilted Nadia's face to the light. "Not white...I think I have just the dress." She disappeared into the back.

"Now don't look at this on the hanger," the woman said, holding up a lacy, shapeless looking shift in an odd, beige color. "You have to try it on. It's silk and I know the color is strange, but with your skin tone...trust me." she handed the dress to Nadia and pushed her toward the changing room, "Try it on."

"There's no mirror in here," Nadia said, surprised.

"That's so people have to come out where I can see them."

"Yeah, me, too," Laurel said, "Come on. Let us see."

Both the owner and Laurel smiled broadly when Nadia emerged from the dressing room. "See," the woman said looking at Laurel, "I'm never wrong."

"Wow," said Laurel, "If you don't love this..."

When Nadia saw herself in the mirror she had to admit the dress was perfect. The silk clung like a second skin, but the lace overlay kept it from being at all revealing. The color, which had looked so dull on the hanger, picked up the golden tones in her skin and seemed to reflect the light. She couldn't help smiling, thinking of the look on Sayid's face when he saw her.

"Okay," she said, "I love it," she closed her eyes. "How much?"

The woman quoted a price that was just slightly more than Nadia had planned on spending. She decided it was well worth it. She paid, and Laurel was only too happy to carry the dress bag and place it carefully in the car.

"I can keep it at my house. You're still dressing there, right?"

"Yes, and that way there won't be any peeking. I don't want Yasmin to see it either."

They celebrated their find over lunch.

When Nadia got home Grace and Yasmin were watching a movie. "Daddy's on the computer," Yasmin announced with a mouthful of popcorn. Some of the popcorn fell out, of course, and Grace collapsed in hysterics. Nadia shook her head at the two of them and walked back to the extra bedroom they used as an office. Sayid clicked the screen off just as she came in.

He turned in the chair, "Did you find a dress?"

"Yes, I did."

"Can I see?" he smiled.

"You know the answer to that," Nadia said returning his smile. "You'll see it soon enough. What were you doing on the computer?"

"Jack gave me his e-mail. He's out in Iowa for a few days. Some kind of pre-trial stuff for Kate. He'll be back in time for the wedding though."

"Good." The three of them had gone to dinner several times and Nadia liked Jack. She felt it was important for Sayid to have a friend to talk to who knew about the island, someone who had shared that experience. There were things he had been through that she simply couldn't understand. "I hope it all works out and I can meet Kate soon."

"Me, too," he said, "I think you will like her. She reminds me of you in some ways."

"Really? How?" Nadia was curious. He had never mentioned this before.

"Well, she is beautiful, like you," he smiled, "so you might think she would be easy to intimidate, or push around, but she is tough like you, too. She is strong. She can take care of herself."

"If she is like me, she is happy that Jack is there for her so she doesn't have to be strong all of the time." She kissed him and went to check on the girls.

As soon as she left the room, Sayid clicked the screen back on and finished what he had been doing, smiling at the thought of the surprise.

The next weeks went by quickly. A few days before the wedding, Sayid walked in, smiling, and handed Nadia a small box.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A gift," he told her, "Something you should have."

He watched her face closely as she opened it. She gasped, and her eyes filled with tears.

"It can't be," she looked at him, "Where did you get this?"

"Your aunt, Leila, she sent it. I contacted her about coming to the wedding, to surprise you. She wanted to, but Amir just had heart surgery, and she didn't want to leave him. They have invited us for a visit, though, when Yasmin is out of school."

This was my mother's." She held up the delicate silver chain and didn't try to stop the tears.

"I know."

"How did Leila..." Nadia sat down. "I went home when Mama got sick. They found me, arrested me there, just a few days after the funeral. My father..." her voice broke and Sayid sat and put his arm around her. "He disowned me, said he didn't have a daughter. I did not get anything that had been hers. Leila had this?"

"No. Asef had it. He gave it to her, for you."

"Asef?" the tears vanished instantly, and Nadia's voice grew cold. "You know he is the reason we were apart, Sayid. Can you forgive him? Because I cannot."

" I remember. Do you also remember that it was Asef who got me out of Iraq?" He looked at her, wondering if this had been the right thing to do. "There is a letter, two, actually, one from Leila...and one from your brother."

"What does he say?"

"They are for you. I did not read them." Sayid laid the letters on the table. Sensing she needed to be alone to do this he said, "Take your time. Yasmin and I will go and bring something back for dinner."

Nadia stared at the two letters Sayid had placed on the table. Pushing Asef's letter aside, she opened Leila's first. _My Dear Child _it began, and Nadia's tears started again. Why had she shut Leila out? All these years? It would have been good to have family, even so far away. Maybe if she had kept in touch, Sayid would have found them sooner, She had been afraid though, and this was not the time for regrets. She continued to read.

_I would so much love to be there for your wedding day. I know how long you both have waited for this. Hopefully, we can all be together soon, and we will celebrate then. _Leila went on, with no bitterness or anger over Nadia's silence or the years apart, but chatty, telling about Amir's recovery, how good it had been to talk to Sayid and find out that all was well, and how anxious she was to meet Yasmin.

Then at the end of the letter, her tone changed. She wrote. _I do not know if you knew that my Amir is a Christian. He has never pressured me to convert but living with him all these years has given me a perspective others may not have. I see his God as merely another manifestation of the divine, just as Allah is. I believe that God desires us to forgive each other. I know how you must feel toward Asef. But he asks for your forgiveness. I promised him I would speak on his behalf. He suffers greatly knowing how he hurt you and he knows that he can never fully atone for what he did. I hope and pray that you can find a way to soften your heart toward him, and that when you visit, we can be together as a family. All my love, Leila_

Nadia put the letter down, then picked it up and read it again. She had spent years pushing away any thoughts of Asef and what he had done. It did no good to live with anger. It was easier to pretend she had no family. Now though, all of it came rushing back, the betrayal, the fear, worse when she discovered she was pregnant. She had lived with Leila for over a month, knowing that, and had said nothing. Then London, and the rest. She took a deep breath and tore open Asef's letter.

The letter was very short, and written in Arabic. Nadia had to stop and think it had been so long since she had read anything in her native tongue. _Nadia, _he began simply, _I am so sorry_. _I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I am asking anyway. I have lived with the knowledge of what I did to you for too long. It darkens all of the happy memories I have of our growing up. _Nadia set the letter on the table and stared ahead. Yasmin's questions about her grandparents, about Nadia's own childhood, often went unanswered. The past, even the joyful parts, was too painful to recollect. Nadia turned her attention back to Asef's words. _Leila tells me you and Sayid are to be married. You should have our mother's necklace to wear on your wedding day. I hope you will accept it, along with my love. _The letter was signed simply _Ana Akh. _I am your brother. Nadia closed her eyes. Could she do this? Perhaps it was time to try.

When Sayid and Yasmin came in with cartons of Mu Shu Shrimp and Cashew Chicken, she was still sitting at the table with Asef's letter in her hand. Sayid sent Yasmin to wash up.

"Are you all right?" he put his hand on her shoulder.

She covered it with her own. "I will be," she said, she held out the necklace to him. "Will you help me put it on?" Standing, she lifted her hair. He brought the necklace around in front, and after a few missed attempts, fastened the tiny clasp, kissing her neck before backing away. He was curious about the letters, but decided it would be better not to ask questions now. Nadia would talk to him when she was ready.

Yasmin bounced back into the kitchen, "Can we eat now? I'm hungry!" she said sitting down and opening the cartons. Nadia got plates, and they passed the food around the table. When all the cartons were empty, Yasmin reached into the sack. "The fortune cookies are my favorite part," she said handing one to her mother. "You first, Mama."

Nadia unwrapped the cookie and broke it open. Rolling out the paper she laughed and read aloud; "Including others in your life will bring great happiness." She looked at Sayid and smiled.

"Now Daddy," Yasmin said, pulling out another cookie.

"No, that one is yours," Sayid said.

"Okay," Yasmin broke the cookie and read, her lips moving silently, a puzzled look on her face. "I don't get it," she said.

"Read it out loud," Nadia told her.

"An inch of time is an inch of gold," Yasmin looked at them. "What does that mean?"

"It means that time is precious," Nadia said softly, "And we shouldn't waste it."

"Oh,"Yasmin said. She looked at Sayid. "Your turn."

"I don't think she liked that one," he laughed. Picking up the last cookie, he broke it and read; "You will travel far and wide for both business and pleasure." He looked at Nadia and Yasmin. There had been quite enough traveling in his life. This was home. There was no place else he wanted to be. "No," he said, "I think I will stay put for awhile."


End file.
